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© 2002 T.E. Ballard. All rights reserved.
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The Uncertainty Of Altars
These are dangerous times--
beauty is everywhere and love waits
with her long lash
and if I turn this rock
over in my mind, she is no longer gray--
something more
like thousands of particles
dancing back and forth and I do not remember
when I began to need,
when I began to love.
Who was my first woman, man?
Where is the taste of stars
in my mouth?
Today, I could be anyone,
enter anyone, take on their skin.
A cloth covering glass
that smooth, that contained.
© 2002 T.E. Ballard. All rights reserved.
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